Friday, June 28, 2013

Now that I won't be dragged screaming and kicking from California, I think I've finally figured something out. I feel so strongly about this that I'm going to blog about it.For time untold people from other places have denigrated Los Angeles and in fact pretty much everyone who lives here in the Golden State. They say we're shallow. They say we're stupid. An estranged relative of mine even snapped that "You're all phonies out there! You're all a bunch of actors!"Well, okay, that pretty much hits the mark. But in defense of our "vacancy" let me put forth this:Yes, we may be blond. Yes, we may actors. And yes, we may have so much plastic in our bodies we barely qualify as human beings any longer, but I still love us and our blank positivity. Why?Because as actors/entertainers, we're under constant stress to perform, to attain and amass huge quantities of fame, money, and more fame and money and in order to do that we sacrifice, we struggle uphill with that vacant smile on our faces, refusing to acknowledge that we're down or desperate and that underneath it all, that gnawing fear of the possibility of getting it all, losing it all, getting it all again and then losing it permanently (some of us are personally acquainted with this) hangs over our souls like vampire glitter. And we do this as we drive on our freeways as thick and twisted and stressful as Medusa's head. (No, NOT MEDEA, MEDUSA. Look it up in Greek mythology ya' little Freakles! And DON'T steal my nicknames. I will find and out you!)

It pisses me off to no end when I hear people (still!) bitch "Don't tell ME to have a good day! I'll have whatever day I want!" in response to our "Have a nice day!" rejoinders.Don't you foolish people understand?We're DE-Stressing.When we ask you "How are you?" as we take your order or ring up your grocery receipt, we're not really asking. And when we respond, "Fine!" we're not really telling. And when we tell you to have a nice day, we're saying "I have no idea who you are and I really don't care."Shallow? Cruel? Inconsiderate?Bite your tongue (those who don't have pierced ones)!Not at all!We know that if we ask each other how we are, we really don't want to open up that can of snakes (Medusa, get it yet?). Just like we know that giving a truthful answer isn't what we want to know either. Most times we don't want to open up either's can of snakes--it's all we can do to deal with it alone.So we level it out. We shallow it. ALL of us have drama going on in our lives; some of it horrific, some of it silly. The value of our vacancy is our knowledge of where the drama really belongs and where we put it: in front of the camera.Have a nice day!The Egypsy Has Spoken.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Hello!Haven't been here for a while but that doesn't mean I haven't been busy! Dealing first and foremost with health issues both mine and my family's and then travelling. Now I'm back and I have an actual moment or two to--yes, you know it--rant about minutiae. I hate it when this happens. Dreaded intellectualism rears its ugly self up into my brain and makes me watch smarty pants television. Yes, I know television and smart? Damn near impossible. (If you want to argue with me on this point, all I can say is "Honey Boo Boo")What is this smarty pants show I refer to? Well, it certainly isn't the SyFy channel. No no no, it's the divinely produced directed and acted series, The Borgias. And I hate that I love it so much. Hell, I'm not even a true fan of The Renaissance. But that's me. While everyone is soaking up Game of Throbs, er, throats, er tes--oops, I mean Game of Thrones, there I am watching what is aptly billed The Original Crime Family, eyes sucked out and glued to the hi def screen. How did this happen? I was flipping through channels, desperate as usual for something of substance to watch (heel evil intellect, heel I say!) I stopped at The Borgias and that was it. Hooked from the opening credits, I've been running away as fast and hard as I can but it always manages to sink its wicked nails into my brain. And it has nothing to do with my obsession with history. From Jeremy Irons' Rodrigo Borgia to Mark Phelan's drunk, this is a brilliant piece of work by anyone's standards. It's one of the few shows I can watch as a total fan without noticing details like lighting, props, etc., and etc., that's how perfected this series is. Besides, Irons is MADE for those Papal robes. If I had to use one word to describe it: delicious.That was a nice rant I guess.Oh, here's something that pisses me off: when people friend me or connect with me somewhere and immediately pitch their product to me. I know because I used to do it too. Now I realize how annoying it is, and I hate people doing it to me. If you want to sales pitch me, say so. That way I can ignore you.Hey I wouldn't be me if I didn't bitch about something!